


I've Traveled Miles (and Now I Sleep)

by Meatball42



Series: Rare Pairs [153]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bechdel Test Pass, F/F, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:48:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24450838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/pseuds/Meatball42
Summary: Natasha fell asleep in the cab that took her from the airport to the Tower.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Natasha Romanov
Series: Rare Pairs [153]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/365729
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34
Collections: Marvel Femslash Exchange 2020





	I've Traveled Miles (and Now I Sleep)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meilan_Firaga](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meilan_Firaga/gifts).



> Thanks to defenestratingreason for the beta!

Natasha fell asleep in the cab that took her from the airport to the Tower.

It went against all of her training to allow herself to be vulnerable in a location like that, but she was so tired. She’d stayed awake on the commercial flight to JFK that was necessary to keep her undercover identity secure, and she stayed awake in the first taxi that took her to a neutral location, and on the subway that took her to Lower Manhattan. But she fell asleep in the cab that brought her back to Stark Tower, and the cabbie had to wake her up when they arrived.

Walking into the Tower was such a relief. In Natasha’s exhausted state, she could admit it to herself. The careful lines she drew between what she felt and what she was allowed to think were gone. It felt safe to walk into Stark Tower, the territory of the Avengers. It felt safe to be in this building, where the walls themselves would protect her.

She dragged herself to the elevator and slumped against the wall, and it brought her to her floor without prompting. When the doors opened, Natasha walked out with her eyes closed, taking her clothes off as she walked and throwing them anywhere. She made it to her bedroom blindly, and when she fell on her bed, it squealed.

The adrenaline bump was mild, Natasha really didn’t have much left in her. It helped that the squealing person laughed soon after, moved, and then Natasha was on her mattress, under her covers, and someone trustworthy and warm and wonderful was pressed against her, and she could sleep safe.

  
  


Natasha woke up feeling like shit. It was the kind of wake-up that came after a twelve-hour sleep, when her body couldn’t stay down anymore but wished it could. She had to drag herself out of bed and into the shower to feel even slightly conscious.

When she exited the master bath there was music playing. Nothing that Natasha recognized: shitty American pop. Still, when she let herself fall on the bed and doze for a while, there was a smile on her face.

“Wakey wakey,” Darcy cooed.

Natasha turned onto her stomach and groaned.

“Valid answer,” Darcy said, “but it’s four pm, so I think it’s in your best interests to get up and eat something. I made your favorites. Well, I ordered your favorites, and I put them on plates and stuff.”

Natasha still felt crappy, so she shook her head.

“I get it. One time I ran a 5k and I slept so late the next day,” Darcy kept going. “My mom told my brother to wake me up by any means necessary, so he poured ice water over me.”

Natasha stiffened.

“But I’m not that mean, so you get bacon and your weird porridge thing and coffee.”

Feeling slightly more awake, and smelling the kasha, Natasha rolled onto her back.

Darcy was sat on the edge of the bed, holding a tray. She smiled at Natasha, wide and kind and so beautiful. With the hand that wasn't keeping the tray level, she smoothed some of Natasha’s hair back from her face.

“You look like shit, babe.”

Natasha sniggered.

“Come on, sit up.”

Natasha sat up. Darcy helped her push the pillows against the headboard and put the tray on Natasha’s lap. She laid her head on Natasha’s right shoulder, so Natasha had to use her left hand to dig into the food, but that was nothing to trade for Darcy’s warmth against her side.

Darcy was talking, Natasha realized after she’d swallowed enough fatty, delicious calories. The subject matter wasn’t too important; Darcy could talk about anything. But the sound of her voice filled the room, indignant and amused and ironic and entertaining, and it was the voice of the woman who slept in Natasha’s bed and waited for her to come home. It was the voice of the woman who couldn’t cook but learned Natasha’s favorites and ordered them when she needed them. It was the voice of the person who loved Natasha even knowing who she was, what she did, the choices she’d made and would continue making.

“...so I’m supposed to pay attention to my hair at a time like this? Like, I’m sorry I have classes and I can’t go to the salon on a friggin’ Tuesday, but there are more important things in life. Like, related, I finished the next chapter of my thesis, and I sent it to Yvette. Which is a whole two weeks early! I’ve had a lot more time to write in the lab lately, because Jane’s been spending more time with, like, other human beings? Instead of doing research. I'm proud of her.”

Natasha spooned some kasha into her mouth. Her temple nuzzled into Darcy’s hair. She was warm and safe and smiling so much it was hard to eat.

She was exactly where she wanted to be.


End file.
